


Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road

by puddles3535



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: ha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:11:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddles3535/pseuds/puddles3535
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a fun little writing prompt that my roommate gave me to improve my writing. </p><p>Enjoy... It's stupid bullshit</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road

Why did the chicken cross the road?

1.) Chicken POV. Third.

John was already late for dinner and he knew that his wife, Mary, would have her feathers in a twist if he missed their chick's 1st birthday. He normally took the back way home from work, seeing as London was extremely busy this hour of the day, but there was no time to spare. So, you ask why did the chicken cross the road? So that he would not miss his bloody chick's birthday. But no one asked if he made it.  
John watched as traffic flew past him at speeds that made his tail twitch. He waited for the prime moment of crossing and when he thought he had it... he chickened out. (Pause for laughter) He saw many a human cross the road with great bravery. Why could he not be like them? For fuck sake. He was John Cluckson. John fluffed his wings and puffed his chest. With a loud scream, he rushed toward traffic; before he knew it, he had made it half was across the street. He could feel the pride run through him as he lowered his head and dived throw the air. He could hear the car around him squeal was the tried to come to a stop. Though John ran as fast as any flightless bird could, he knew that it was not enough. The world slowed as he saw a taxi rushing towards him. Was this the end… John saw his life flash before him. This was it. This is how he was going to end up someone's table for dinner. How hid feathers would be stuffed into a bloody pillow! This would be how children would play with his bones and make wishes off him. With the last few seconds, he had left he asked… “Please, God. Let me life.”

2.) Not the Chicken POV. Third.

Sherlock Homes could not believe his eyes when he saw a chicken in the middle of the road. His first instinct was to follow the chicken, once it had safely crossed the road. But he acted mostly on his seconded instinct, and that was to let out a burst of laughter. He watched as the chicken ducked and dived around the automobiles. It was all fun and games till he saw the chicken about 15 feet from death. He thought it was strange that he found himself diving to save someone's dinner, but there he was, in front of a taxi going about 40 kph to rescue a chicken. He balled the bird into his arms, and with a roll dodged out of tragic.  
Sherlock looked down at the bird and saw it's small dark eyes looking back at him. Warm wrapped around his body. The chicken looked at him too for an abnormal amount time for a bird.  
“Hello. My name is Sherlock Homes,” He said looked at the chicken.  
The bird nodded a bit and fluttered out of Sherlock. The bird flicked his leg around and it showed a name on a tag. “John Cluckson.”


End file.
